Guardian Angel
by Fallen Angel of Flame
Summary: Harry's treatment at the Dursley's has gone too far. He runs away and ends up under the care of his Guardian Angel. This is SLASH HarryDraco
1. The Family from Hell

AN: This is my first fanfiction story. I'm not too sure if this story will be any good but I really hope so. This is just the introductory chapter and the actual plot will start in the next chapter.

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to JK Rowling. I only own the plot of this fanfic.

WARNING: This is Slash. If you don't like it or don't know what slash is then LEAVE NOW!

Prologue: The Family from Hell

"Well FUCK YOU!" the boy shouted as he slammed the door closed, "I'm leaving!"

The boy's name was Harry Potter. Harry was very small for his age, the reason being his home for the first eleven years of his life; a cupboard. Harry had jet black hair, and brilliant green eyes framed by thick round glasses. Harry lived with his only surviving family at number 4 Privet Drive. Only Harry wouldn't really call them family. Family didn't treat other family members the way the Dursleys treated Harry.

For as long as Harry could remember, the Dursleys had always abused Harry, both physically and emotionally. Petunia Dursley, while she didn't abuse him, had always looked down at him like he was a piece of dirt she had scraped off of her designer shoes. Aunt Petunia would be the one to make him do chores from early in the morning, to late at night when he could barely keep his eyes open. And no matter how hard Harry cleaned, there would always be more work to be done the next day.

Dudley Dursley, how to describe him? Dudley was the sole person that made Harry's years at elementary school a living hell. It wasn't enough that Dudley always pushed him around and bullied him, he had to turn the whole school against Harry as well. It started when they were very young. Dudley would tell all his fellow kindergarteners lies about his cousin that had made the children turn away from Harry in disgust. Dudley would tell them things like, "Harry picks his nose and eats the boogies," and "Harry has cooties, if you go near him you will get cooties too!" By the time the kids started to question the truth of Dudley's words they were too old to believe in cooties anyway. Dudley solved this problem by simply threatening to beat up anyone that went near Harry.

The worst of all three Dursleys was Uncle Vernon. To Harry Uncle Vernon was the most evil person on the face of the earth. Well except for Voldemort. And Lucius Malfoy…and the rest of the Death Eaters. Well he was still pretty evil.

For as long as Harry could remember, Uncle Vernon had treated Harry worst than a slave. At least slaves were treated somewhat close to human. Uncle Vernon was the one that beat Harry. Whenever Harry did something wrong, Uncle Vernon would hit him. The bigger the mistake, the worst the beating were. Even if Harry hadn't done anything wrong, Uncle Vernon would make up something to use as an excuse to beat Harry. If Harry pointed out that he hadn't done anything wrong or that it wasn't his fault, Uncle Vernon would just throw Harry into the cupboard and lock him in there without any food.

After several years of this treatment and constant abuse, it was getting to be too much for Harry. He was sick of the abuse, sick of the chores and sick of living with people who didn't love him.

These were the reasons that Harry had decided to leave number 4 Privet Drive. He was reliving all of the horrible memories as he walked down the street and out of the Dursleys lives forever.

He hoped.


	2. My Guardian Angel

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to JK Rowling. I only own the plot of this fanfic.

WARNING: This is SLASH. If you do not like slash or don't know what it is the LEAVE  
NOW!

Chapter 2: My Guardian Angel

He hated his family. He hated his life, and he hated this long road that lead absolutely nowhere. He also hated himself for running away without thinking to bring any food.

Harry had been walking for four days straight now, only stopping to pass out on the side of whichever road he was on, and sleep. Harry didn't know where he was now or where he was headed. The only thing he did know was that wherever he was going, the Dursleys wouldn't be there.

'I am such an idiot,' Harry thought to himself for the millionth time as he walked down yet another street, 'and where the HELL am I?'

Harry glanced around his surroundings trying to find something familiar, or at least something to give him a clue as to where he was. He seemed to have strolled into a small, quiet town, with dirt roads and very few people or automobiles to be seen.

'Well…' thought Harry as he looked around, 'this is nowhere I've ever been before.'

This wasn't surprising considering that the only other places Harry had ever been to besides Little Whinging and Hogwarts was Diagon Alley and the Weasley's house. Wherever that was.

Either way, Harry hadn't seen much outside of London, and this certainly wasn't London.

'Great,' Harry thought sullenly as he continued walking down the street.

It was getting dark again as night fell on the little town, and Harry once again had nowhere to go. So he kept walking.

'Maybe someone will take pity on my pathetic state and give me food and shelter.'

Harry still had injuries from his last encounter with Uncle Vernon. His whole body was covered in bruises and practically his whole face was purple from the black eye he had received. Not to mention the pain that shot through his ankle every time he took a step, and Harry didn't even want to know about the internal injuries he might be sporting.

Harry shuddered with the thoughts of what had happened at #4 Privet Drive only four days ago. 'Enough thinking about that,' Harry thought as he looked for any possible saviors. 'Mourning over what happened in the past never solves anything.'

Harry continued to look around for some sign that there were people in this town that would give a damn about him, but he found none.

All the people he had seen either ignored him, or looked at him with disgust and walked away quickly. He must be delusional if he thought for one second that people would care about him. Maybe the Dursley's were right. Maybe he **was** just a freak.

Harry's stomach grumbled loudly as he passed a small grocery store. The sight of the food only made Harry realize how hungry he was. He had some experience with not having food for a few days, but even the Dursleys had at least given him a can of cold soup a day. Now he had nothing. Harry could not remember ever going this long without a scrap of food and it was really wearing him down.

'Maybe the searing pain in my stomach will go away if I ignore it.' Harry glanced longingly at the food in the window as his stomach gave another loud rumble. 'Ya…' he thought sarcastically, 'it'll all just go away.'

So Harry reluctantly passed the store and went in search for somewhere he could sleep for tonight.

After another hour's search for a place to stay, Harry came upon the largest, and most beautiful gate he had ever seen. It was at least 50 feet tall and its many bars formed a large arch at the very top. The bars were made of a gleaming gold that shone in the moonlight and made the gate look even more amazing. At each side of this large gate were walls of solid white stone that reached almost as high as the gate. When Harry looked down the road, the stone walls seemed to go as far as Harry could see in both directions.

'Wow…' was all Harry could think of as he stared at the magnificent sight before him with his slowly drooping eyes.

These walls were obviously made to hide something. Most likely a very expensive something.

Too tired to really care what happened to him anymore, or whether or not the owners of this gate would allow him to go near it, Harry promptly walked over onto the grass in front of the stone wall. He then collapsed form huger, exhaustion and the strain of his life.

He loved this town. It was small, private and had a sort of old fashioned feel to it. And thankfully there were only a few muggles who lived here, most of the stores and homes were owned by witches and wizards. He especially loved to walk around the town at night when the moonlight shone bright and reflected off everything. The glow from the moon gave the town an unearthly atmosphere.

Tonight as he walked around the town, he thought of his previous year at Hogwarts. He thought of his friends, Quidditch, and his 'enemy'. Harry Potter.

He didn't really hate Potter, and personally, he was getting sick and tired of their constant fighting. He was tired of all the pranks he had to pull, of all the insults he had to come up with every day, and he was tired of having to constantly have a sneer on his face. It wasn't easy to sneer. The muscles of your mouth being pulled into an unnatural pose, eyes cold and emotionless. Sometimes he really hated being a Malfoy.

'O well,' he thought as he headed outside of town and towards his mansion. 'It's not like I'll get a chance to show who I really am any time soon. Dwelling on it will only made fighting with Potter even harder.'

When he was nearing the gates to Malfoy mansion, he noticed that there was something, or someone, lying beside the white stone wall.

'Is that a homeless person?' he wondered as he stepped closer to the thing on his lawn.

As he got even closer, and the features became clearer, he concluded that it was indeed a person.

'But who would dare go near the "Haunted Malfoy Mansion."'

Everyone in the town knew of his father's reputation as an 'evil' man. So many rumors were told, that no one went anywhere near the mansion for fear of being killed. Or worse.

As he stepped beside the person lying on the ground, he noticed that the person, whoever he was, wasn't in a very good condition. The boy was lying on his side with his arm draped over the top of his head and he was curled up in a fetal position. It looked as though the boy had been in a fight. The part of the boy's face that he could see was covered in bruises and his ankle was twisted in an odd way.

Very gently, as to not wake him, he rolled the sleeping boy onto his back and took at better look at his face.

"Holy shit…Potter!" he exclaimed as he got a good look at boy's face.

Now that he could properly see the boy, the tell tale features of the boy-who-lived were unmistakable on his face. The messy raven hair, eyes concealed behind thick round glasses, that were now broken, and the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

'Yep, it's definitely Potter,' he thought as he examined the sleeping boy before him. 'Wait a second… what is that on his face?'

To get a better look at the boy-who-lived, he removed Potter's broken glasses and set them in his pocket. He then assessed Potter's condition.

"Oh my god!" he yelled into the night air as he glimpsed the side of Potter's head.

Not only were there bruises all over Potter's face, but on the left side of his head, there was a deep red gash that was spewing out blood at a constant flow. Now that Potter was on his back, he could see that there was a large dark red puddle underneath Potter's head that could only be blood.

"He must have hit his head on the wall when he passed out," he said to no one in particular. Knowing that a cut on the head could not be at all good, he made a decision to take Potter back to the Manor.

'But firstI need to deal with his cut'

So he searched around for something that he could wrap around Potter's head. Finding nothing suitable he decided, rather reluctlently, that he would have to use a piece of his own robes. Using his teeth, he tore a piece of his beautiful and expensive robe and gently wrapped it aroung Potter's head.

'Now how the heck am I supposed to get him home?'

Potter was very small for his age, but for some reason unknown to him, Potter still managed to be at least two inches taller that himself. Whether it was because he was born to be a seeker or that the Malfoy's pure blood (1) was affecting his DNA, he didn't know. But for whatever the reason, it didn't make carrying Potter up to the manor any easier.

'If only we were able to use magic this would be a lot less difficult' he thought to himself as he contemplated the easiest way possible to carry Potter.

Deciding that he would just try to lean Potter against him as he walked, he leaned over and picked up one of Potter's arms to sling over his own shoulder. As he did this, Potter began to stir and mumble things as he was brought slowly to consciousness.

'Oww…my head.' This was he first thought that popped into Harry's head when he stirred into consciousness. The last thing Harry remembered was seeing the large gate and deciding to sleep near it. He did not remember doing anything that could have given him this unbearable pain in his head. Now if felt like there was someone with their arm around him, trying to help him sit up. But that couldn't be right.

"Potter, are you alright?" said a muffled voice coming from somewhere above him.

'Okay…maybe there is someone beside me' Harry thought. But thinking only made his head hurt even more so he gave that up quickly.

"Potter… Potter!" said the same frustrated voice.

Deciding that he didn't want to anger this person further, Harry sat up slowly with the help of the mysterious person, keeping his eyes firmly shut as dizziness over came him.

'I think I'm gonna be sick…' thought the distressed Harry as he learned over to one side.

But having eaten nothing for days, all Harry ended up doing was dry heaving while the person above him held him steady.

When he was certain that he was done, Harry tried to sit up once again but the person beside him laid him gently on the grass, speaking words that did not reach Harry's ears.

He felt really tired again, even thought he had just awoken from sleep a few minutes ago. But before he could pass out again, Harry slowly opened his eyes to get a glimpse of the one person in this miserable town who had helped him.

The person beside him, Harry decided, looked like an angel. He had almost white, blond hair that shone in the moonlightand made his hair look like a halo around his golden head. This hair framed a beautiful pale face that was positioned above Harry with what seemed to be a look of concern on his face. But since he no longer wore his glasses, the image above him was blurred and unfocused.

'He's an angel,' Harry thought sleepily as he eyes fell closed, 'my guardian angel.'

AN: First of all, I have absolutely no clue where the Malfoys live and what their town is like so please forgive me. ; Secondly, I hoped that the few people who actually read this enjoy my story so far and that's it's not completely horrible.

Thanx to all who Reviewed! (that being only three people…) you guys are awesome!

(1) What I mean by this is that, (its mentioned somewhere in one of the books) there aren't very many purebloods left in the wizarding world so some families marry muggles. So for the Malfoy's blood to be completely pure, I think that somewhere along the line there was some incest happening. If I'm wrong or whatever, my train of thought here doesn't effect the storyline in any way so it doesn't really matter.( I'll stop rambling now)


	3. MALFOY!

AN: It's my birthday! Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to me… Okay I'll stop now.

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to JK Rowling. I only own the plot of this fanfic.

WARNING: This is SLASH. If you do not like slash or don't know what it is then

LEAVE NOW!

Chapter 3: Malfoy Manor

"_Come on you can do better than!"_

_Laughter echoing off the cavernous room_

_A flash of blinding light_

_A triumphant scream_

_The veil billowing slowly as a figure falls through the arch as if in slow motion_

"_SIRRIIUUSSSSS!"_

"NOOOOO!" Harry screamed as he awoke from his most frequent nightmare.

His whole body was trembling and covered in a sheen of sweat from the exertion of the dream. Harry closed his eyes tightly as he tried to keep his unwanted tears from falling. He clenched his fists in the silk sheets and suppressed a sob, so as not to wake his relatives, as he tilted his head up towards his ceiling…

'Wait a minute…' Harry thought as he looked back down at the bed, 'silk sheets? But my bed doesn't have silk sheets.'

Harry examined his surroundings and determined that he was indeed lying on a bed with silk sheets. A huge, comfortable, and extremely expensive looking bed at that.

'Where the hell _am_ I?'

_FLASHBACK_

It was nighttime at #4 Privet Drive and the Dursleys had just finished devouring their dinner. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were watching the news, while Aunt Petunia was knitting Dudley a new pair of mittens so that he would have some by Christmas. Harry was, of course, stuck cleaning the kitchen and washing the dishes. But at least he could see the TV from his position at the sink. He was rarely allowed to watch the television, Uncle Vernon considered it too good for a freak like him to watch.

As the section on weather was finished, a newscaster with short brown hair and a moustache appeared wearing a grim but triumphant expression on his face.

"Today a notorious escaped criminal was reported to be found dead."

This caught the attention of Uncle Vernon as he looked up from the snack he had just pilfered from the refrigerator.

"Sirius Black, who escaped a highly guarded prison three years earlier, was found dead by Cornelius Fudge, a government official."

The clatter of a dish falling to the floor and breaking filled the Dursley's kitchen as Harry gasped and stared at the TV in shock.

'Sirius…'

"BOY! You better have not broken a plate!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, eyes still glued to the TV.

Harry ignored him as he tried to prevent the images of Sirius falling through the veil from playing in front of his eyes. But it was no use as he listened to what was being said by the news reporter.

"Black had apparently broken into a government building a few months ago and was finally caught. He was being held there as officials decided what to do with him. When they decided to take Black back to the prison, he escaped once again but was shot and wounded by the crossfire that ensued. Black was then found today in the office of Fudge after having bled to death. Fudge reported this immediately and…"

Harry shut his eyes and refused to listen to any more. He knew Sirius' death had to be explained to the muggles somehow, but why did Fudge have to make to sound like Sirius was committing another crime instead of risking his own life to save Harry's.

"HA!" Uncle Vernon laughed as he listened with glee to the report. "Stupid convict finally got what he deserved!"

Harry, who was rapidly blinking back tears turned to face his Uncle.

"What…?"

Uncle Vernon tilted his head back and his body shook with the booming laughter escaping his mouth. When he had managed to calm down he smirked at Harry and said between gasps. "Your godfather" gasp, "the stupid, dirty convict" gasp, "is DEAD!"

He then started in another bout of laughter, his face turning bright red from lack of oxygen and almost falling off his chair.

"Shut UP!" Harry screamed, throwing down the dish towel in his hand, as he stared at his Uncle.

The lights started to flicker on and off and the whole kitchen was soon shaking as Harry clenched his fists and glared at his Uncle in anger.

Aunt Petunia and Dudley, who were watching the scene unfold before them, screamed as their kitchen started to fall apart.

Uncle Vernon stopped laughing abruptly and his angry gaze fell upon his nephew as he stood up.

"What did you just say boy…" Uncle Vernon questioned in a low menacing growl.

"I said SHUT UP!" Harry screamed, his voice cracking from the amount of raw emotion boiling inside him. "Your wrong! You can't say that, you don't know anything! YOUR WRONG!"

The punch came so quickly that Harry didn't even notice it until he was slammed against the wall with the force of the blow. He slid down the wall and rubbed his head as his Uncle stood towering over him.

"How DARE you, you insignificant FREAK!" Uncle Vernon roared, picking Harry up off the floor by his shirt and slamming his back against the wall. "How dare you scream at ME!"

"I'll scream if I want to!" Harry shouted back as he lashed out at his uncle, trying to get free.

"Oh really…?" Uncle Vernon growled, "is that what you think?" He wrapped his hand around Harry's throat and squeezed while his other hand kept Harry positioned against the wall.

The chaos surrounding the Dursley's kitchen increased along with Harry's anger. The cupboards burst open and dishes crashed to the floor as the kitchen continued to shake violently.

There was a loud crashing sound and suddenly all motion in the room stopped.

Uncle Vernon turned to the source of the sound and screamed at the sight he saw.

The television had fallen off its table and was lying in a pile of broken glass on the floor.

"BOY!"

Harry knew he was in trouble now. If Uncle Vernon was angry before, it was nothing compared to the fury pouring off him now. His face had turned from bright red to a violent shade of purple and his whole frame was shaking. His eyes had narrowed into tiny slits on his large purple face and his fists were clenched so tightly that blood could be seen seeping onto the floor.

"You're going to pay for that…"

With his threat in place, Uncle Vernon lunged at Harry with speed that came out of nowhere.

Harry ducked his Uncle's hands and ran towards the door to the kitchen, intent on getting to his room and away from his uncle.

But he wasn't fast enough.

As Harry opened the door and burst into the hallway, he was once against slammed against the wall with the force if a Hippogriff.

His Uncle then proceeded to beat Harry with everything he had. Harry was punched, kicked and slammed against the wall so many times that his body was shaking with the effort of staying conscious.

When Uncle Vernon was finally finished 'punishing' Harry, he stood up and glared down at Harry panting.

"Now…" he growled slowly, "you will go into the kitchen, clean up the mess you made, and you will not, I repeat NOT, say one word about your pathetic godfather."

The anger in Harry returned full force at the mention of Sirius, and Harry stood up glaring at his uncle.

"No." Harry said as he looked his fuming uncle in the eyes.

"What did you just say you little piece of shit!"

"I said 'No'", Harry repeated slowly.

"You will do as I say you stupid brat!" Uncle Vernon lunged forward again, preparing to grab Harry with his arms outstretched and his fingers curled. But this time Harry was ready.

When Uncle Vernon was a foot in front of Harry, he ducked down, narrowly missing the thick sausage fingers grabbing at his throat, and stuck out his leg.

Uncle Vernon fell forward as Harry's leg connected with his shin, and landed on the floor causing the whole house to shake.

Harry sprang to his feet and ran for the door when a hand wrapped around his leg. Harry turned around and glared down at his uncle. "Let me GO!" Harry screamed, struggling to pull his leg free.

"How listen here you FREAK!" Uncle Vernon bellowed from his position on the floor. "You live in MY house. So you will obey MY rules! IS THAT CLEAR! You belong to ME!"

Harry pulled as hard as he could and he managed to get his leg free, just as his uncle was starting to get up. He ran to the door, opened it, and turned around to face his pathetic 'family' gathered in the hallway.

"Well FUCK YOU!" he shouted as he stepped outside and slammed the door closed. " I'm leaving!"

_END FLASHBACK_

"Oh…"

Harry closed his eyes as he remembered what had happened on his last day at Privet Drive and the horrible events that followed.

'Well at least wherever I am it's not with the Dursleys' Harry thought gratefully as he leaned back against the headboard.

"Owww!" He exclaimed as a sharp pain shot through his head. He opened his eyes and placed a hand on the side of his head and felt something leaking through a piece of cloth wrapped around his head. When he pulled his hand away, there was a dark red substance covering his fingers.

'Blood.' Harry thought as he examined the liquid. 'But I don't remember hitting my head.'

Harry quickly wiped the blood on his already filthy shirt and glanced up at his surroundings. But everything more than twp feet in front of him was an indistinguishable blur. It took Harry all of three seconds to realize that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

He looked around the bed for his glasses and found them on a table sitting in the left side of him.

Harry put on his glasses and everything came into focus. The room he was in was definitely not the small, plain room he had back at the Dursley's.

The bed he was laying on was the largest bed he had ever seen, and the room itself looked like it could swallow the Dursley's house whole.

"Whoa," Harry said aloud as he took in the sight of the beautiful room. It was decorated somewhat like the common rooms at Hogwarts only much, much more expensive looking.

On the right side of the room was a large window that went from the floor to the ceiling and was covered with deep red curtains. A small amount of light was leaking through the curtains and was spilling onto the bed.

On the left wall was a stone fireplace with a fire burning merrily in the hearth, and comfortable looking furniture surrounding it.

There was a magnificent rug that covered the majority of the floor, and had intricate designs of dragons and other magical creatures stitched in gold. The floor that wasn't being covered by the red carpet, was a rich brown in colour. It was made of the shiniest looking wood that Harry had ever seen.

Stationed around the room were various paintings of witches and wizards in gold frames and many dressers and tables that were covered with objects that were obviously magical. And on the wall directly opposite the bed was the largest door in the room, which Harry assumed led out into the hallway.

All in all, Harry had never been anywhere that was more brilliantly decorated than the room he was currently occupying.

A knock on the door brought Harry out of his state of shock and he looked towards the large door across from him.

'Crap.' Harry thought frantically. 'I have no clue where I am and now someone has come to check on me.'

But before Harry could decide what to do, the large door slowly creaked open and a figure stepped into the room.

"MALFOY!"

AN: Thanx to all who reviewed! Ur AWSOME!

_Master-of-Wind_- Yah your probably right but it will be explained in the next chapter.

_Staryday_- thanx. I think it's cute too.

_dmweasley_- sorry, I'm trying, but I think this chapter is slightly longer.


	4. The Imposter

**Disclaimer**: I don't own it (obviously)

WARNING: This is SLASH. If you do not like slash or don't know what it is then

LEAVE NOW!

AN: Okay, first of all I am sooooooooooo sorry it took me so long to update this chapter, but I have a good reason I SWEAR! Before you kill me hear me out.

My stupid, brainless little brother BROKE OUR COMPUTER! We just got a new comp a few weeks ago but I was doing final projects and studying for my exams so that's why I haven't updated until now.

Also, I just got back my trip to Nova Scotia. So before we left, I was packing for like 5 days and cleaning up the house. The only time I got to do something I actually wanted to do was the night before we left. So I thought that since we were leaving at 5 in the morning that it would be pointless for me to go to sleep because it was 11 o clock then. So I was typing up this chapter but when it was like 1 o clock, I knew I wasn't going to finish typing it, plus I was dead tired. Instead I posted my 'little product of insanity', Just Thought you Should Know, because I could type it in like 5 mins tops.

Chapter 4: The Imposter 

"MALFOY!"

Said blond haired boy looked across the large room to the bed that Harry was currently occupying. "Oh, you're awake. Since you didn't answer I thought that you were still asleep."

Harry stared at his long time enemy with his mouth hanging open and the boy walked further into the room. He was totally speechless. Where the heck was he and why, wherever he was, was Malfoy there too. But what shocked him the most was that his rival was actually speaking to him without insulting him.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry growled finally as Draco walked up to the bed and placed a tray onto the bedside table.

"What am I doing here?" Draco said sarcastically. " I live here, Harry. That's what I'm doing here."

'WHAT? He was in Malfoy's house? How the bloody hell did that happen?' Harry gaped openly at the boy standing next to him and tried to remember how he could have ended up here. 'Maybe I was kidnapped and Malfoy is holding me here until Voldemort comes. Or maybe whatever is on that tray, Malfoy is going to use to kill me. Or…Wait…did he just call me HARRY?'

"Here, eat this. It's already past noon and you're probably starving." Harry was dragged out of his thoughts as a tray, with what looked to be soup was placed on his lap.

Harry's earlier thoughts popped back into his head, and Harry wondered whether the food was poisoned. 'Well I'm not going to take any chances either way. Even if I haven't eaten in five days.'

Harry's stomach growled loudly as the delicious aroma of the food sitting in front of him filled his senses. Draco just raised one blond eyebrow as Harry's stomach proved his earlier statement.

"Well, aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm not eating _anything_ you give me Malfoy. Who knows what you could have done to it. Why don't you just kill me off now, or are you waiting for Voldemort to come and finish me off?"

"Why would I want to kill you when I'm on your side?" Draco asked with a hint of a smile on his face. Deciding he didn't want to stand anymore, Draco hopped onto the bed and sat cross-legged facing Harry.

"WHAT!" Harry yelled, leaning against the headboard, trying to get as far away from Draco as possible. "That's bullshit Malfoy. Everyone knows your father is a Death Eater. You prance around the school preaching Voldemort's views on muggles and ways to kill them. You can't _seriously_ expect me to believe you're on my side."

"Tsk, tsk Potter. Is that any way to treat your savior?" The familiar sneer was back on Drano's face as he tried to gauge Harry's reaction to what he had said. 'This may be harder than I thought.'

"My what?" Harry spat, glaring at Draco again. "Since when did you save…"

Images of a beautiful pale face leaning over him, flashed through Harry's mind as he remember the events before he passed out.

'Oh. My. God.' Thought Harry scrunching his face as the images passed. 'Those gates must have been the gates leading to Malfoy Manor. Dammit! Of all the places I could have ended up it had to be where Malfoy lived.'

Draco watched Harry's face as a series of emotions flashed across it. Harry was so easy to read it wasn't even funny.

"If you are referring to the person who found you half dead, sprawled in front of their gates, and brought you home so you wouldn't die…yeah that's me." Draco responded, ticking the facts off in his fingers.

Harry was once again speechless. 'Half dead? I'm not that badly hurt, am I?' Harry gingerly touched the wound on the back of his head thoughtfully. 'Maybe the wound is worse than I thought.'

When Harry turned his attention back towards the gray-eyed boy, Draco was staring at Harry as if expecting a reply. Harry frowned at the boy sitting across from him, and crossed his arms across his chest in defiance.

"Well that still doesn't mean I'm going to eat anything you've given me," Harry sneered at the blond. "Even if you don't want to kill me, your father is still a Death Eater."

"My father is not a Death Eater. He is a spy for Dumbledore and the order." Draco explained, matching Harry's gaze calmly. "He just pretends to hate muggles. It's all an act."

Harry snorted at Draco's response. "Ya right Malfoy. Like I'd believe anything you, or you father, says."

Draco sighed loudly and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Well what would it take for you to believe me?"

Harry glared at the blond and tried to decide why Malfoy cared whether he believed him in the first place. 'It's probably some major plan to make me an easier target for Voldemort.'

Draco tilted his head back down and raised an elegant eyebrow at Harry. "Well?"

"Proof," Harry responded. "I want proof that your father isn't a Death Eater."

"Is that all?"

At Harry's slight nod, Draco laughed and got up off the bed. "Well then that's easy enough."

Draco walked over to the fireplace where a bright fire was dancing merrily. He reached on top of the mantle, searching for something behind some of the larger artifacts.

"Ahh ha!" Draco exclaimed once he located what he was searching for. He pulled out his arm and in his hand he held a little clear glass container that glittered in the light from the fire. Draco then turned back towards Harry with a triumphant smile on his face. "Would Dumbledore's word be enough proof for you?" He asked Harry sarcastically.

But before Harry could respond, the gray-eyed boy lifted the lid off of the clear container and pulled out a pinch of powder which he threw into the fire.

The flames leapt higher and turned a bright green in response to the powder and the blond cried out, "Albus Dumbledore!"

A couple seconds later, the familiar face of the Hogwarts headmaster appeared in the flames. "Why hello, young Mr. Malfoy. How are you this fine day?" The headmaster's blue eyes twinkled behind his half moon glasses at the boy in front of him and a warm smile graced his features.

Draco knelt down to be at the old man's level and replied with a smile of his own. "Very well thank you, Headmaster."

"And to what, Draco, do I owe this visit?"

"Well…" Draco started as he sat more comfortably on the hard wood floor, "you were informed about our visitor, am I correct?"

"Ahh yes, Mr. Potter I believe." Dumbledore frowned, twinkle in his eyes dimming slightly, and craned his neck around as far as his could while his body was miles away. "How is Mr. Potter doing?"

"He just woke up actually," Draco responded as he glanced back at Harry who was listening intently from his position in the bed. "In fact, he is the reason I firecalled you."

"Oh is it now?" the Headmaster asked, the twinkle dimming even more and the worry he felt for Harry showing clearly on his aged face.

"Yes. It seems Potter over there didn't believe me when I told him that my father was innocent," Draco explained. "He seems to want proof. So I thought, 'Well why not get the Headmaster's word. That ought to be proof enough for him.'"

The headmaster chuckled from his place in the middle of the fire as the twinkle in his eyes returned, before fixing his gaze back on Draco. "Yes, well Mr. Potter always was one not to trust too quickly. Am I right Harry?" Dumbledore said, now directing his question across the room.

Harry snorted at the obvious understatement. ' 'Not one to trust too quickly…' ya, and Snape's hair isn't _that_ greasy,' Harry thought, but out loud he said, "Well how else am I supposed to act when Voldemort's death eaters could be anyone."

Dumbledore nodded his head at Harry's response and turned towards the bed that he now knew Harry was on. "Well you don't have to worry about Lucius Malfoy being a death eater, Harry." Draco nodded his head in agreement to Dumbledore's words. "Lucius had been a spy for me since the first war. The only reason he has been acting so cold all these years after Voldemort's downfall was because I knew Voldemort would rise again and that I would need Lucius to spy for me once again."

Harry just stared at the head of Professor Dumbledore in suspicion. 'I guess that makes sense…' Harry scrunched up his face in thought, trying to fir the pieces into place. 'Dumbledore wouldn't lie to me about something of this magnitude. Unless this isn't really Dumbledore.'

"How do I know you're the real Albus Dumbledore?" Harry voiced his suspicion.

On the floor, Draco rolled his eyes and grinned at the situation. 'Dumbledore wasn't kidding about Harry being slow to trust people.'

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly at both Draco's amusement and Harry's suspicion. "Well then Harry, why don't you ask me a question that only the real Albus Dumbledore would know?"

It took Harry awhile to think of a good question to ask, if he really wanted his question to prove whether or not Dumbledore was an impostor, he knew the question had better be good. At first he was going to ask the headmaster about the Prophesy because only himself and Dumbledore knew the full prophesy. But that idea was shot when Harry really thought about it. Asking about the Prophesy wouldn't be a good idea for two reasons. The first being that: if this was Dumbledore or not, both he and the death eaters would know at least some of the prophesy because Voldemort knew about the prophesy too. The second was that if Harry did ask Dumbledore about the prophesy, Malfoy was sitting right there, and for all Harry knew, Draco could be a death eater as well as his father. So left with no other choice, Harry decided to ask this 'Dumbledore', if that's who he was, something that he himself had long forgotten.

Harry looked back over at the pair who had been watching him for the past five minutes. One was blissfully unaware of anything around him as he hummed a happy tune, (Harry suspected that if he had the use of his thumbs, Dumbledore would be twiddling them) and the other was sitting cross-legged on the floor staring lazily at Harry through half-lidded eyes.

Harry glared at this person, then turned to the man in the fire and broke the silence. "I've made my decision."

This brought Dumbledore back to the present. He turned his head towards Harry expectedly and the boy beside him threw his arms into the air as he cried out, "Finally!"

"Well, what is your question Harry?"

"If you are really Dumbledore, then you are aware of the events of my first year, right?" Harry asked while carefully examining the Headmaster's facial expression.

Dumbledore's face immediately sobered, clearly remembering the events Harry was referring to. "Ah…I believe you mean the philosopher's stone."

Harry nodded his head but Draco responded first, snorting in disbelief. "_That_, was your question! It took you _that_ long to think up of that _pathetic _question!"

Harry rolled his eyes and snorted as well. "No! I'm not that stupid, despite what you may think." Turning back to Dumbledore he said, "My question is, 'How did I retrieve the stone from the Mirror of Erised?' If you are really Dumbledore, you should know the answer since it was you who explained it to me in the first place."

Dumbledore nodded his head solemnly but Draco stared at the other two wizards in the room with an expression of pure confusion on his face. He turned to gaze questionably at the headmaster but the aged man just shook his head at Draco and faced Harry once again.

"You were able to pull the stone from the mirror because only someone who wanted the stone but wouldn't use it for their own selfish needs could obtain it."

Harry nodded his head, happy with the response, and leaned back against the headboard to get into a more comfortable position after sitting so tense for the whole conversation. "Fine," Harry responded in a monotone voice, "so I guess you are the real Albus Dumbledore"

"Okay…" Draco said, getting up from his position on the floor. "Now that that's over with, you…" he pointed at Harry, "have your proof and you also know that this man…" Draco paused as he then gestured to the headmaster, "is the real Albus Dumbledore and not an imposter. Do you believe me yet?"

Harry stared at the blond and rolled his eyes at Draco's stance. He was standing by the fire with the funniest look of exasperation on his face, and was gesturing wildly with his arms as he spoke "Ya, sure whatever," Harry responded finally.

From his place in the fire, Dumbledore's face lit up as he exclaimed, "Brilliant! Well then, I'll just be going now. Much to do you know?"

"WAIT!" Harry shouted, sitting straight up in his bed, praying that the Headmaster hadn't yet disappeared from the fire.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Take me with you!" Harry pleaded, hoping beyond hope that the Headmaster would agree. But his face fell when the Headmaster responded with a look of amusement in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Harry, but you will be safe here and I'm sure the Malfoy's will take care of you."

"But why can't I go to the Burrow?" Harry questioned in disbelief. 'I do not want to spend the rest of my summer _here_!'

"Once again. I'm sorry Harry," Dumbledore said, the twinkle in his eyes disappearing, "but the Weasleys are at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and I'm sure that that is the last place you want to be right now."

Harry froze the instant that the Headmaster said, 'Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix'. He threw his hands over his ears and tried not to think about Sirius. 'Shut up, shut up, shut up! Don't think about Sirius! Don't think about the Order! Don't think about Sirius being stuck there and how trapped he felt. Don't…'

"Aghh!" he groaned. He couldn't help it. The more he tried to not think of Sirius, the more thoughts of his godfather popped into his head. Tears once again prickled at the corners of Harry's eyes, threatening to fall if he didn't stop thinking of Sirius soon. Harry rubbed his hands over his eyes furiously, trying to stop them from falling, but it was no use. The tears fell and nothing Harry could do would stop them. He put his head in his arms, trying to salvage the little dignity he had left. 'I can't let HIM see me cry. I can't!"

Meanwhile, the other two occupants of the room were staring at Harry, worry in both their eyes.

"Uhh?" Draco murmured quietly, as he watched a lone tear slip between Harry's fingers before his face was blocked form view by his trembling arms. "Is he going to be alright?"

Dumbledore sighed as he too wondered the same thing. "I hope so Draco. I hope so." With that said, the Headmaster nodded his goodbye to Draco and disappeared from the fireplace without a sound.

Draco stood in front of the slowly dying fire awkwardly and desperately wishing that Dumbledore hadn't left him to deal with this situation alone.

The only sounds in the room, besides those coming from the fire, were the occasional strangled sob in the direction of the bed where Harry was trying get his emotions under control.

After some time, when Harry's sobs had dwindled down to only a few, Draco moved from where he was standing and walked cautiously towards the bed. When he had reached the bed, Harry lifted his head from his arms. He looked at Draco with one watery eye then placed his head back on top of his arms.

"Is Dumbledore gone?" came a muffled question from the vicinity of Harry's arms, that broke the silence.

Taking this as an invitation, Draco slowly lowered himself onto the end of the bed before responding.

"Ya." Draco paused searching for a reaction from Harry. But when the green-eyed boy didn't move an inch he continued his quiet response. "He left about ten minutes ago. After…well, you know," Draco ended, awkwardly glancing at Harry.

Harry snorted and lifted his head to wipe away any stray tears, then placed his chin atop his arms instead. "Ya I know."

Draco watched Harry as his breath returned to normal and the red in his green depths lessened. But the silence still stretched on, unwavering in its intensity. Even the fire seemed to have stopped crackling as much and was soon to be completely extinguished.

Draco fidgeted in his place on the bed and twisted his hands nervously in the sheets. Harry still hadn't moved from his position, let alone said a word, while his eyes gazed unseeingly at nothing that was in the room.

Tired of the unending silence, Draco looked around the enormous room desperately trying to think of something to say. Anything to break the tension in the air. His eyes then landed in the bowl of soup that was on the bedside table, still steaming because of the warming charm that had been placed on it.

"Are you going to eat your soup?" Draco asked the unresponsive boy who didn't seem to have heard. Draco looked worriedly at the black haired boy sitting morosely in front of him once again. When Harry showed no signs of having heard Draco's question, the silver-eyed boy prodded lightly at Harry's shoulder, saying his name softly.

This time Harry looked up into Draco's face and their eyes met. One set full of worry and the other full of immense sadness.

"Yah?" Harry responded quietly, breaking eye contact and moving on to stare at the obviously very interesting bed sheets.

"I said, 'Are you going to eat your soup?' I'm not sure how long the charm will last so you better eat it before it cools down."

"I'm not hungry," was Harry's response.

Draco looked unbelieving at the depressed boy. 'Not forty minutes ago his stomach was growling and not he's "not hungry" ya right.'

"Come on, Harry. I know that that's a lie. You haven't eaten all day. I'm even hungry and I just ate lunch a few hours ago." Draco said, trying to convince the other boy to eat.

"Well then you eat it."

Draco suppressed a growl at that. Harry was really starting to annoy him. Here he was, all worried about the boy's sanity and Harry was either giving him half-hearted responses or ignoring him completely. Draco opened his mouth, about to give Harry a piece of his mind when there was a knock on the door.

**MGAMGAMGAMGAMGA**

AN: Yeah for me! Another chapter done!

Now down to business. This is obviously OOC now. I mean can you really imagine the Draco in the books hoping onto a bed let alone actually being somewhat nice to Harry. Also when I wrote this I was just guessing at how Harry would react to Sirius' death, but now that the new book is out, how Harry reacts is OOC too. And I hadn't even meant for Harry to start crying again, it just kind of happened that way.

Oh, and just out of curiosity, how many people got the new book and read it all the first day like I did. ; Though I did have a 30 hour car ride with nothing to do but listen to music.

THANX to all who reviewed, I like getting reviews. And so far NO FLAMES! I'm so proud. )

_Master-of-Wind_ - as you can tell from this chapter, Draco had a reason to bring Harry inside. He's not evil!

_MSII_ – Thanx for the tip. I hadn't even realized that I wasn't allowing anonymous reviewers

_Tink_ – all I have to say is: Ouch!

_princess kyra_ – Hee, hee. Harry kinda freaked out didn't he.


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